


Motorcycles Aren't The Only Thing She Rides

by Ickleroonilwazlib, Wannabanauthor



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Collaboration, F/M, Fluff, Motorcycle Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5644081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ickleroonilwazlib/pseuds/Ickleroonilwazlib, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wannabanauthor/pseuds/Wannabanauthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavia goes to the annual Harley festival and meets a franchise owner, Lincoln.</p><p>Collab with Ickleroonilwazlib.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Motorcycles Aren't The Only Thing She Rides

**Author's Note:**

> Months ago, Ickle and I wrote this awesome modern AU of Linctavia at a motorcycle rally. I'm just now posting it on here. I love her for doing this with me!

By the time she reaches Sturgis, she’s tempted to skip the first day of the festival. After that hellish 20 hour ride in her pickup truck, her Harley strapped down in the bed of the truck, she is ready to sleep for a week. The added heat and mugginess only fuel her discomfort and exhaustion.

She wishes could have ridden her Harley to the rally, but it was currently having problems. With no time in between work and the rally, she hadn’t had the time to have it looked at. It was just safer to put it on her truck and drive the truck to the event.

Driving for 20 hours straight was something she will never do again. She stopped for a few bathroom breaks, but that was it. She ate while driving, and that almost ended up in her getting a ticket.

She flops on her comfortable bed and closes her eyes for a few minutes. The festival starts the next day, and it’s almost midnight now. Her eyes are exhausted, and her body feels lethargic, regardless of the fact that she’s a gymnastics coach.

Her body was ready for waking up early in the morning for the drive, but it protested after sitting around for too long. She’s an active person. Idleness was just something she didn’t do, and now she’s paying the price for it.

After ordering room service, she draws a hot bath and spends her time relaxing in the water while picking through her food. She feels her eyes drifting closed in the bath, so she hurries to bed before she passed out.

The next morning, she’s up bright and early for the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally put on by Harley Davidson, the make of her five year old motorcycle.

She manages to get to the rally before her bike starts acting up again. It’s tempting to take an ax to it, but she figures that she can get it looked at while she’s here. The price might be higher, but she’s invested so much in this Harley that she won’t let it quit on her now.

She takes a half hour buffing it with wax to make it look presentable before finding a spot to park it. Right next to a Harley dealership.

There’s a camera crew outside interviewing a black woman in a suit. She has short curly hair, and Octavia wishes that she looked that good and professional in a suit. The woman’s face is passive, and she looks almost bored with the interviewers. Octavia chuckles to herself because she doesn’t do well in interviews either.

Her gaze moves over to the shirtless man off to the side. He’s looking over a motorcycle, and she can see his back muscles flex as he moves. His dark brown skin glistens in the sun, and Octavia wets her lips thinking about running her tongue over those muscles.

He has a few tattoos on his back and chest, and now she really wants to know what his skin tastes like. His head is shaved clean, but she can see a bit of stubble from this distance.

She takes a step in his direction, but someone steps in her path.

“You look a little lost. Do you need help?” A man stands before with a friendly smile on his face. He looks sincere, but she shrinks away from him. Even with his long hair and bright smile, something about him rubs her the wrong way.

“No,” she says while shaking her head. “I’m fine.” She turns away and decides to explore the rally. It’s a bit overwhelming, and she wishes that her brother Bellamy was here. He was originally supposed to join her, but he was called to teach a summer class at the last minute.

He was the one who introduced her to motorcycles, and he even accompanied her when she bought her Harley. He even convinced her to color a few strands of her hair blue, pink, and purple for the rally.

She tries to stay away from the crowds. There are too many people clustered around her for her comfort. The lines for food are long, and she just feels out of her elements. The people around her are diehard motorcycle enthusiasts, and for her it’s just a side hobby. Her job as a coach is her main focus.

After wandering around for a few hours, her feet take her back to the dealership where her motorcycles awaits. Before she can unlock it, the shirtless man from earlier shows up.

“I hope you’re not leaving already. The day is just starting,” he says. His voice is deep and smooth, and she never even knew that voices could turn her on. Now that he’s standing she can see that he’s at least a foot taller than her. Good lord, could he get any hotter?

She looks up into his deep brown eyes, and her words fail her for a moment. She almost asks him how in the hell did he get from Mt. Olympus to South Dakota.

Instead she says with a shrug, “It’s a bit much for me. I’m already tired, and-”

His warm smile cuts her off. “I saw you were having trouble with your bike earlier. Want me to look at it? I’m quite good with my hands.”

I bet you fucking are, she thinks while sneaking a glance at said hands. They’re big and adorned with a few calluses. Her gaze goes back up, and she swallows nervously.

“Sure,” she says fanning herself with her jacket. He winks before walking over to her bike, and she finds it too hot to keep her jacket on, so she takes it off. She’s glad that she chose a tank top that clings to her body and shows off her own muscles quite nicely.

While he inspects her Harley, she takes the moment to fully check him out. His back is to her, and her eyes linger on his ass. It looks firm, and her hands itch to slap it to find out.

“Aw, here’s your problem,” he says, pointing to her electrical panel. “Your fuse shorted out. I can replace it for you easily.” When he looks at her eyes, her eyes are not on the electrical panel.

He turns around to face her fully, and that’s when she notices that he had spoken.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” she asks, not even trying to hide her reaction to him. He chuckles.

“I can fix your bike. If you’ll just come with me,” he says motioning towards the door. She brushes past him and enters the dealership.

Her mouth waters as her eyes feast on all the latest models of Harleys. She wants another one so badly, but she just doesn’t have the money for it right now.

She can feel him watching her as she excitedly looks over each motorcycle. There’s at least a dozen in the showroom, and they all vary in colors. When she’s done, she joins him and he leads her to his workshop. He picks out a fuse from a toolbox and starts to work on her bike.

While she waits, Octavia focuses on the woman in the front of shop who’s taking a break from interviews.

“Lincoln,” she says walking over to the two. “I need you dressed presentably. The press want to meet you.”

“In a minute, Indra,” he says while working on the bike. Octavia awkwardly waves at the woman.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly. Indra looks her up and down and rolls her eyes. Octavia watches her go.

She seems like fun, she thinks to herself. When she turns around, Lincoln is finished.

“Start her up,” he says, and Octavia moves to straddle her Harley. Of course, she makes a production out of it. Slowly lifting herself over the seat and firmly seating herself. She even grinds her hips for a second before brushing her hair out of her face.

She leans over while making eye contact with him and starts up her Harley. It growls to life under her, and she can’t help but moan at the vibrations. She swears that his eyes darken as he watches her.

She lets it run for a few minutes before turning it off. She swings herself off it and gives him a smile.

“Runs like new. Thank you,” she says with a glance at his lips. “How much do I owe you?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Consider it a gift since it’s your first time here.”

“Do you come here often?” she asks, and almost wants to slap herself for the stupid question. He works in the shop, of course he does.

His chuckle puts her at ease. “Actually, I own the dealership. I run it with my business partner, Indra. I prefer to work more with our merchandise and behind the scenes, while she deals with the politics and press.”

“Oh,” Octavia says in a small voice. He probably thinks she’s a rookie. Truth is, she’s been too tired and busy to inspect her bike. Her training schedule was so hectic that she barely had time to pack for this trip despite knowing about its existence for months.

“So your Harley is a 2008 Rocker? Nice,” he changes the topic.

“Yeah, it’s my first motorcycle. I’m not ready to give up on her yet. My brother got me into this years ago. I don’t have much time to be as big of an enthusiast as him.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a gymnastics coach. I’ve been a gymnast since I was three, and I decided to graduate to teaching it for a living,” she replies, feeling more at ease. This is good, an easier topic to talk about.

“That explains it,” he says while his eyes roam over her body.

“Explains what?” she says, not in the least bit offended.

“Why you looked so lost a while ago. I hear that career can be pretty demanding, so it’s understandable that you don’t have much time for other things such as rallies.”

She nods sheepishly. He reads her like a book despite only knowing her for less than an hour.

“Yeah, well, my brother’s been here before but he couldn’t come with me. So here I am, alone at a rally. I was hoping to get a good look at the Peace Officer Special Edition, but too many people keep trying to talk to me.”

Her gaze wanders over the crowd. She rarely gets out like this, and when she does, it’s uncomfortable most times. People always feel the need to come up and talk to her.

“Well, that’s because you’re beautiful,” he responds. Her head snaps back to look at him with the sly smile on his face.

“And I actually have a Peace Officer Harley. It belonged to my father,” he adds.

Octavia stares at him for a moment before asking the most obvious question. “Can I see it?”

He scratches his head. “It’s in my garage at home.”

Octavia almost snatched up her helmet right there. “Well, let’s go.”

He shakes his head, but his look is heated. “I have to stay until the day is over and be business-like, but we can go there after. You can still take time to explore the rest of the rally, and meet back here at 8pm.”

She’s disappointed, but there’s nothing she can do. “I’ll hold you to that.”

She finds ways to keep her mind occupied until nighttime. Her body is humming, and she thinks about how his muscles would feel under her hands. The last person she had been with was her ex, Atom, when he came over to pick up his stuff. The sex had been more about physical relief than anything else.

Forcing herself to socialize, she actually meets a few people from California. Two best friends, Clarke and Raven, have their own Harley Davidson club back in L.A. Octavia smiles as she thinks about introducing them to her brother.

The rest of the rally goes by fast after that, and she finds herself having fun at last.

When it’s time to meet him, he’s waiting for her in front of his closed dealership, helmet in tow.

“You know, I don’t even know your name,” he says. His eyes scan her from head to toe, and she wants to climb him then and there.

“Octavia, and you are?”

“Lincoln,” he responds, and she likes the way it rolls off his tongue.

She motions to their bikes. “Shall we? I’ll follow you.” She wishes she could ride with him, but she can’t leave her bike here overnight.

Instead, she follows him to his house, which is the size of a mansion. Business must be good.

They park in his driveway, and he leads to her the garage which looks like a small car museum.

He has some classic cars lined up on each side, but as they walk deeper into the garage there is nothing but motorcycles. Most of them are Harleys, but he has a small variety of other brands.

She stops and gasps as she stares at it. The special edition is closer to his workbench, and she feels drawn to it. He follows behind her as she almost drools at the sight of it.

“My father received this as a reward for his service to the community. He was a police officer,” he explains as her eyes roam all over. She freezes for a moment when she feels him brush past her to show her something.

Her eyes take him in again. He looks more relaxed and happy here. She can tell that this is his element.

Octavia’s not sure what it is—maybe the polished black steel, the glint of silver, the shape of the motorcycle—whatever it is, there’s something already that runs through her veins like wildfire. When Lincoln brushes against her from behind, ever so slightly, saying something or other about the special features of the Harley, the hairs on her arms stand up, as if electrified. He smells like earth and something else she can’t quite put her finger on but she swears she’s smelled it before. She knows he feels the same way too, like this is not just some person he’s randomly met, because his eyes are instantly on hers when she turns around to face him. There’s a pause, both unsure whether to take the next step and yet the pull behind her bellybutton is undeniable. Their lips meet with the energy of magnets after being separated for too long and he tastes delicious, his lips plump and yielding under hers. Octavia groans as he deepens the kiss and she all but jumps him, climbing him like a cat.

Lincoln’s hands mold against her ass, holding her up as she begins a path down his neck, savoring the scratchy sensation of his stubble. She’s never been a fan of facial hair; she’s always thought of it as dirty and unkempt but man is he currently changing her mind about that. He carries her over to the workbench and she knows it’s stupid and too fast—she knows it—yet she can’t help but to find all of him, from his smell to the feel of his skin, oddly familiar, as if she’s claimed him before. Maybe he feels the same way— all she knows is that he’s set her on the bench and her and her pants are coming off too slowly for her tastes, despite the fact that his kisses on her stomach are almost driving her insane. Once she’s free from her confinements, she all but pulls his head to her, not wanting to waste precious time and yes, his tongue is wide against her folds and she’s not sure but she’s almost certain she’s calling out to all the gods in existence.

Octavia comes with his name on her lips, new and yet intimate, the sensation washing over her and though it takes a while to realize she’s still holding his head against her, he doesn’t seem to mind. He savors her, licking his lips in a way that has Octavia’s stomach fluttering. She sits up, tasting herself in his mouth, and maybe it’s because it’s his mouth but she tastes good, better on him. It pleases her to feel him hard and wanting under his jeans, jeans she’s currently trying to pry open with trembling hands because god, he’s beautiful and gods help her, he smells absolutely delicious.

Nothing more than the necessary clothes are shed off in their haste and he wastes no time in scooping her up once more, his skin surprisingly hot under her. Octavia laughs when he sits on his Harley, pulling her to straddle him, and turns the machine on for good measure. It’s stupid and ridiculous but she’s completely and utterly turned on by it. She’s still smiling when he shows her the condom, caught between two long fingers, his eyes asking for permission. This sweet, mountain of man she’s literally just met—she should know better yet she longs to know what he feels like inside her, what he looks like when he’s in pleasure, and she wants to be the one that gives it to him. Nodding her approval, she watches as he puts it on, biting her lip in anticipation and trying not to worry too much because she’s not a small girl but he’s quite thick and she wonders if it’ll feel good.

It’s a worry she throws out the window when he enters her. She can’t explain it—it’s more than pleasurable, it’s like tasting a certain kind of food after not having it for too long or taking that first bite out of your favorite snack. It’s satisfying in a way she can’t describe so she lets her nails do the talking when they lodge themselves on his back and the way she happily swallows his groans. Then it’s nothing but Octavia grinding against him, the purr of the machine beneath her matching Lincoln’s deep groans, until his fingers join the party and she loses her voice. Those lips of his mold over the hard peak of her breasts, his hands strong and steady against her back, and her teeth come down on the shell of his ear when it becomes too much. She’s not sure how many orgasms she’s had because it feels like nothing else before; he doesn’t desist when she stops breathing and clenches against him and so there’s a steady wave of pleasure, one after the other, that has her nearly sobbing against his ear. It doesn’t help that he’s leaving marks on her chest, licking the sweat on her neck, kissing her fast too sweetly against the harsh sounds of their bodies meeting.

When she thinks there can’t be anything more satisfying than the electricity running through her body, he grasps her hips so tightly she’s sure he’ll leave her fingerprints on her skin and with her name mixed in his groan, he buries his face in the crook of her shoulder and comes inside her. They breathe each other in, trembling bodies and trembling lips, but they smile against their kiss, and already she feels her heart igniting with something too pure to be lust. It doesn’t take long for him to carry her upstairs and the door barely shuts behind them when she’s already turned around, pushing her ass against him and the curse he utters resound even until morning.

When morning does come and his arms is heavy on top of her chest, his light snoring close to her ear, she has a short-lived freak out. She’s had sex with a guy she literally just met—never mind the fact that she feels strangely drawn to him— and she’s now waking up in his bed. In his apartment. A stranger’s apartment. It’s short-lived because he hears her panic and somehow dispels it when he kisses her shoulder far too tenderly. He has nothing but fondness in his eyes and Octavia has nothing but fondness in her heart and they both wordlessly decide that maybe this is worth a try. She leaves and hour and a half later, her hair wet and clearly satisfied again, laughing all the way home.

She thinks she’ll never be able to ride her Harley without laughing like an idiot ever again.


End file.
